


Sharpe's History

by queerlyobscure (softestpunk)



Category: Sharpe (TV)
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-10
Updated: 2011-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/pseuds/queerlyobscure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Sharpe have a little chat about things in his past of a questionable nature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharpe's History

“I believe we're up to the last girl, Richard. What was her name again?” Jack smiled slowly from his place on the bed.

Sharpe swallowed, shifting his knees a little to take the pressure off them, “don't know.” He looked down to the floor.

“Look at me,” Jack ordered firmly. Sharpe looked back up again. “You don't remember? Surely it wasn't that long ago?”

“I... I never found out,” Sharpe winced at his own admission.

“Oh dear.” Jack fingered the riding crop resting on the bed beside him. “Do you know what kind of man sleeps with girls without ever finding out their name, Richard?” He smiled slowly as Sharpe shook his head, “I would put it to you that you are no more than a common whore, but you don't even get paid, do you? You give yourself away to all manner of women should they so much as look at you.”

Sharpe's cheeks burned, and he nodded again. He couldn't exactly argue with the truth.

“Do you think it wrong, Richard?”

“No, sir,” he answered honestly. Jack smiled slowly again and lifted the crop. He brought it down quickly, but stopped just short of Sharpe's naked thigh so that only the very end caught the sensitive flesh.

“Good boy. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He set the crop aside and reached down to stroke his cheek. “Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?”

“Yes, sir,” he looked up evenly. “There's been no-one since you, and I'm glad of it, because they couldn't hope to compare, sir.”

Jack smiled, perhaps a touch more honestly this time, and stroked a single finger along Sharpe's cheekbone, following the line behind his ear and back down to his chin to tilt his head up before he leaned in to kiss him. “You are a flatterer, Richard, and a charmer. But I like you for it.”


End file.
